Middle East Adventures

This morning I headed out on my 3rd tour in Oman. I’ve never really been a group tour kind of person, generally just finding my own way and making it up as I go. That said, most of my travels before have been in more “on the beaten path” destinations like Europe and Asia. As I speak no Arabic, and also wanted a guide to tell me some history and learn something about the culture here, I opted for guided tours in Oman. The tour today was in a group of 3 (one American man and an English lady) with our guide, Ahmed, taking us to Nizwa and then Jebel Shams.

I was the last of us to be picked up and by this stage old mate from the US had already formed a bond with the guide, chatting away and finishing the guide’s sentences… incorrectly. The first 30 minutes passed without me or the English lady getting a word in. The tour was scheduled for about 10 hours today, but started with the guide explaining that we were going to miss a lot as there wasn’t enough time, though perhaps we could add on a UNESCO site on the way, which would take an extra 1.5 hours. Our NY’er friend agreed instantly and so that was what we did. An hour in and I’ve got to say, the NY’er was pissing me off already. You know the type — knows more than everyone and just has to let everyone else know how much they know. There’s only room for one of those on any tour — and if it’s not me, I’m not keen.

Unlike yesterday’s wide and smooth freeway, the roads to Nizwa (or wherever it was we were heading before there) were a bit rougher and narrower. We arrived at the unscheduled stop — a fort of some kind with running water canals. I didn’t really understand what it was, mainly because Mr Know-It-All was having a conversation with the guide about it as if it were something everyone already knew about. What I took from the conversation was that the water comes from beneath the mountains about 100km away, flows first to the fort for fresh water, then to the bathing station (where some locals still bathe today), and then gets split off to various parts of the gardens and farms of the village.

The water flowing was remarkably clear and fast-moving. Five-minute stop complete, we were back in the car going for a toilet break at a café with clean toilets. On the drive there we passed through a mini oasis of greenery — full of date-laden palm trees in the process of being harvested by men climbing the trees and dropping the fruit down onto mats below. We stopped for the toilet, and the NY’er was hungry, so we sat and watched him eat a croissant, chips, and coffee. It was nice to sit in the cool and while he ate all that, I grabbed a lemon mint drink. Delicious. An hour later we were back on the road again.

Nizwa was our next stop, home to the original capital of Oman and one of its impressive forts. The fort was one of the things I wanted to see before coming to Oman — the desert architecture style caught my interest while researching whether Oman was worth a visit. Alas, the fort would be later on… maybe. First we had to go through the souk. We were offered many coffees and dates, explained the process and varieties of dates, ate more dates, and wandered looking at dates. An odd date now and then is fine, but this many was way more than I could digest. I tried to move us on a bit but old mate from NYC was chatterboxing away slowing us down. Eventually we left shop one, only to be led to the next shop where we had to watch a video on the making of some sweet.

This was becoming a shopping tour! The silver shop was next, followed by the spice markets, and some souvenir shops. I’d had enough. Leaving one hall I spotted the entry to the fort. “Can we go to the fort now?” I asked. “Just take photos, no time to go in now.” “Umm, but this is what I came for. If I’d known we were time-limited, I would have skipped the markets,” I said to myself before coming out with a more polite version to the guide. Fortunately the other two also wanted to go into the fort, so he decided to skip something else and take us in. We bought a ticket and had a look around. It was scorching hot by now. I seriously considered getting a henna done as the room it was in was air-conditioned, but resisted — if only to keep us on the move.

The fort, its construction, defenses, and quarters were impressive. How anyone had any energy to attack anything in this heat is beyond me! Yet obviously it had a purpose back in the day. We finished at the fort, and I was getting hungry — the others wanted to delay lunch further given they ate earlier, but fortunately the guide insisted on getting lunch now. We stopped about 40 minutes up the road in a town that seemed to service tourist buses for lunch. NY mate and the guide had spoken about some coal-cooked sheep that was traditional and NY wanted to try it — so they ordered that (the English lady had no say). I’ve been mostly vegetarian the last year or so, so opted for a vego meal instead. I got my own tray, as we all sat on the floor and they devoured the meat with bare hands. I know it’s culturally appropriate, but I just don’t like eating with my hands from shared plates with people I don’t know. My solo vegetarian tray was delicious. The only child in me didn’t have to share — win!

It was time now for one of the main attractions of the tour I’d booked: heading to look at Jebel Shams — Oman’s answer to the Grand Canyon. It’s touted locally as the second biggest canyon in the world. I haven’t been able to fact-check that, but from the pictures I saw before booking — it’s certainly grand! The drive there was… interesting. The mountain that the canyon is contained within sits at about 3000m in altitude. Kinda high! The road up the mountain was sealed for about a third of the journey, and then dirt road, 4x4 territory, almost to the top, where it was sealed again near the lookout. We made our way up — quickly. I was in the back trying to take in the view — which was amazing — but also terrified about how close I was to the cliff edge with no barriers. At least the sealed road was a little wider, as once we got to the dirt road it was even scarier as we slid along the corrugations. Spoiler alert — we made it.

Almost at the top we were waved down by some French Algerians. The three of them had almost run out of fuel and asked if we could help. All through the tour the guide had been explaining how his beliefs were that people should do good things for people, and then good things will come back to them. That’s instead of only doing good things for reward or payment. He told them to keep driving to the top and he’d arrange some petrol for them once he had phone signal. They followed us up the last bit of the drive and we all parked by the main lookout. While they sorted out the fuel situation, our group of three went to take in the view.

Now, whether or not this is the second biggest canyon in the world after the Grand Canyon, it’s bloody breathtaking! It was about an hour before sunset and the light of the late afternoon sky lit the rock walls up beautifully. I crept towards the edge and looked at the near-vertical drop down to the valley floor below. It’s one hell of a deep canyon! I took some pictures for myself and the other two (who got scarily close to the edge) and soaked it in. It was quiet up there, peaceful and very relaxing. While I was taking in the view, the fuel situation with the French Algerians was sorted. After a local offered to bring fuel up for $40 USD, the guide told him off for being rude and selfish and refused. Instead, another local went to his shed, got a pipe, and siphoned some fuel from our car into theirs.

Having saved the Frenchies, we continued a short drive around the canyon, stopping in a little village for another view. This village had heaps of goats and a few donkeys wandering around. One of the goats was obsessed with one of the Frenchies — trying to jump into the car each time he opened his door. Lol. Reminded me of a dog I had growing up who would literally jump into any open car door he saw. Photos taken, it was time to head back down the mountain before sunset. NY’er wanted to stay up until after sunset, but the driver said “No, no lights!” “Oh, aren’t there streetlights for the road?” NY’er replied. “No — we must go down before dark, too dangerous at night.” I was glad the guide had some common sense — so down the mountain we went.

As we left we passed a few 4WDs with tents set up on the roofs, camping for the night. I’ve never really gone camping before. People tell me that staying in a tent that has air con, two showers, a toilet, wifi, and a 24/7 butler is not camping — although I still count it as my camping experience. Lack of experience aside, I did feel that I might enjoy a night up here in a tent, just taking in the sunset and sunrise and being completely isolated with just the view — and ideally a special someone by my side. It really was a magically beautiful spot.

Alas, it was time for us to depart. A few minutes after leaving, our petrol light went on too. Was it our turn to need saving now, I wondered? Our guide explained that he likes to have “only a little fuel” for the drive up to make the car lighter, and that we’d get fuel in the town at the bottom of the mountain before heading back to Muscat. It was all downhill anyway, so if we did run out of fuel I guess we could have just let gravity do its thing. Alas, we didn’t need to rely on gravity and made it into town for some fuel, a quick toilet break, and then headed off to Muscat — 3.5 hours away.

Reflecting on the two day trips I’ve done, the group you have really makes or breaks the day. The first group were great, today’s NY’er got on my nerves a bit which took away from some of the amazing things I got to see. That said, the fort town was beautiful as was the canyon. Despite NY’er’s constant interruptions, our guide Ahmed also managed to share a lot of knowledge about his country, their beliefs, way of life and culture, which was really insightful. I think next time, I’d go with friends or in a private tour to take out that variable of the randoms you get stuck with.Leggi altro